The Meanings of Lost

Chapter 6

Bruce:

Somehow I thought Diana would have been slightly shaken. It now seems as if she is fine. We're sitting in a five-star restaurant, one I go to often enough for the waiting staff to give me an odd eye when I show up with a woman.

"Finally, the voice in the woods was Athena," she explains. "The goddess of wisdom and battle strategy. She is very picky about both titles. Wisdom comes first, always followed by battle strategy. You know, I feel like you American vigilantes could pray to her more often, but that's beside the point. She says all this," her arms wave around her as if it helps her explain, "the girl, my missing memories are all a test." 

A test? What kind of test gets me knocked unconscious by a prepubescent child?  "What kind of test?" I ask.

She shrugs. "Something about finding myself."

"That's it?"

"Bruce Wayne, you are the beacon of godly ignorance!" she says it like it's a bad thing.  "Honestly, I think I'm lucky Athena saw fit to tell me I was being tested. Usually, I only find out is when one of them gets angry I haven't done anything for them. It's not like they use cell phones and email. It's all flashes and messages from Iris. Never Hermes though. Themyscira is one of the only places he can't go."

"Right," I just nod. I do not know what else she wants me to do. "Have you tried Googling the kid?" I ask. Sometimes I get Alfred to Google people I think might be a threat, I don't see why it wouldn't work vice-versa. 

"No, I haven't." She pauses. I can see in her eyes she's thinking. They flick around ever so slightly like there are gears in her brain turning. "That's actually not a bad idea." She takes out her phone.

Diana:

I type in Ambrosine Rosefsky (and say a silent prayer that I'm spelling it right) while Bruce watches me. The WiFi at the restaurant is slow, the loading symbol spinning like it hopes to make me sick with it's forebodingness. It knows it's the only thing that stands between people and the answers or entertainment they seek.

I can count my breaths as time passes, though it fees more like hours. Sites and pictures begin to show up. The very first link titles Cast & Crew-The Obelisk Train Theatre.  Odd. I click the link.

MEET OUR CREW AND CAST!

Faces to watch out for in all of our productions!

An animated banner greets me. It has theatre masks that have a similarity to the one in Phantom of the Opera and it flips between quotes from Shakespeare. I scroll down the page looking at photos of regular-looking people and their titles underneath. Finally, I find Ambrosine. Her picture seems outdated, she must have been five or six when it was taken, for her front teeth are missing.

Ambrosine Rosefsky - Serial performer, the article reads, The daughter of our founders, Ambrosine had been in every performance to date. She attends a wonderful school for the academically inclined with an online program allows her to attend rehearsals at all ridiculous hours. Her favourite roles include (but never limited to) Young Morgan Le Fey (Camelot-2016), The Only Lost Boy (Peter Pan Stole My Pants-2011), Jack (Into the Woods-2017), and Matilda (Matilda-2015).

The rest of the page is about the theatre itself, photos from past performances, history, etc. There's also an apology saying that annual shows will be cancelled indefinitely due to current issues. Not what I'm looking for.

I go back to the search page. After the images, most of them taken from the theatre's site, there's an IMBd profile. It lists every performance she's ever been in, her dance and music training, and her agent's number.

"Miss?" A waiter has come with our supper. 

"Thank you," I say, politely flashing a smile as he sets it in front of me. I ordered a plain salad, not having felt very hungry half an hour ago.

"So did you find out anything interesting?" Bruce asks me. 

"Well, she does musical theatre at a theatre owned by her parents," I tell him.

His jaw nearly hits the ground. "Oh, Diana..."

"Don't 'Oh Diana' me! You're the one who got my hopes up about this in the first place."

"Diana. Calm down. This is part of the test, remember?"

"Or Athena could be a figment of my subconscious."

"Why would Athena tell you this was all a test then?" He leans back in his chair, looking too much like a psychologist for my liking. "Do you secretly wish that she was your child?"

"I don't know Bruce!"  Bang! In a passion my hand bangs down on the table, leaving a large dent and disturbing the whole restaurant. "Just stop messing with me. I want to have all the facts straight before I start meddling. I don't want to ruin her life on an emotional hunch."

"Trust me, you can't screw it up any more than it already is."

"How do you know that? And don't start playing any games."

"I wouldn't dream of it. I might be rich but I doubt all the money in the world would stop Wonder Woman from killing me if she wanted to."

"You're right and you're wrong. Nothing can stop her, but she wouldn't kill you. She'd make your life penniless and miserable. Now talk rich man."

"As soon as you gave me her name I had Alfred look her up."

"You didn't."

He cuts me off with a silencing look. As his mouth opens, I pinch myself and draw blood from my wrist for listening to him. 

"My supercomputers can get a lot more information than your phone, although you should already know that." I do. I think about years ago when I worked for the government, IRAC, an A.I., had been a marvellous source for information. "We got into some records, and anyways, her mom died sometime this year and both her aunt, godmother, and grandmother have been trying to take her away from her father and each other. So for about a month, there's been a four-way custody battle going on. And that's good."

"How's that good!?"

"You see, the court decided that it would be unfit for her to live with any of them in the current state of things. She's been put in the system as an incentive for them to hurry up and get to a solution."

"I still don't see how this helps. If I go in there, first of all, I have no basis unless we can prove I'm blood-related. Secondly, I don't see how five people fighting for custody is better than four. That's liable to mess her up!"

"You'll be happy to hear she's adopted. So you could claim to be her mother, but," he pauses for uncomedic dramatic effect, "you could just apply to be a foster parent and I'll get Alfred to hack the system and boom! You've got temporary custody of the kid." Maybe I should have done more than just dent the table. Or never left Themyscira. I never signed up to have gods wreak people's lives just to test me. And I can't believe this madness seems like the only logical plan. 

As of on autopilot, I get up from my chair. I walk outside, people's eyes burning into my back as if they realize who I am. 

"She smashes the table-"

"Not human-"

"It's Bruce Wayne-" The voices spin around me like a whirlpool, trying to pull me in, deeper, and darker until I can't breathe. Until the water crushes the air out of my lungs and takes its place.

Somehow I make it outside. The buzz of the streets. People on the sidewalk give me a wide berth and odd looks.

I wake up the next morning in my apartment with several missed calls from Bruce and my door hanging slightly open.